


Contemplation

by furnisium



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:52:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/furnisium/pseuds/furnisium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You finally did it. You purified. You have created a "perfect" world, and now the repercussions are finally setting in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contemplation

**Author's Note:**

> this is sshorter than i wanted sorry (written to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_eOmvM-4zc ) also i didnt edit it sorry

Stark white hallways had once seemed like a dream come true, but now they surrounded you like a cage of regret, no windows or colour to relieve the doom pressing down on the back of your neck. 

Your feet shuffled beneath you, echoing down the cavernous tunnels of blank space. They echoed because it was only you. You were the last one in the building, in the zone, in the universe. Your add-ons, they meant nothing. They floated behind you, as lifeless and empty as the rest of the world. They had always been, even before the Purification. Each addition was like an omen, of sorts, leading you blindly to the end. Now, none of that mattered. The silence of the world pounded at your eardrums, making it impossible to move without exaggerating your breathing, just to keep from going ever further off the deep end. It felt like you were floating as you mindlessly circled the corridors, passing the same grey doors over and over. What was there left to do? Face the Queen? Your son? A shiver ran up your spine. You didn't even know his name, now did you? He was just the spawn of a twisted spark of hope, a pathetic excuse for will. Had it been love? You didn't know, and never would. Those days were over. 

 There was nothing. You stumbled out into the open, the ground matching the sky and the lifeless buildings. This journey of self-hatred and maniacal devotion had driven you off the edge, and there was nothing you could do. Not even specters could keep you company, their pathetic excuse for an existence had been wiped out with the rest of your unwilling victims. What had you done? The words dripped out of your mouth like fresh blood. God, how you missed the feeling of being hit. At least someone was there besides yourself. The thought brought a weak, plastic smile to your lips as you said it over and over.

What had you done?

What had you done?

What have I done?


End file.
